


The Vermin of Riga

by Walsingham



Category: Wallander (UK TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 11:43:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walsingham/pseuds/Walsingham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during series 3 episode 2 of Wallander called 'The Dogs of Riga'. Wallander is captured by the same man that tortured the two Latvian bodies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Vermin of Riga

   He was going to be tortured. Tortured like the bodies from Latvia were, with their broken fingers and mouths burnt out with sulphuric acid.

   Wallander knew there was something dangerous and secretive about Colonel Karlis Liepa, but, again, he had put his job above his safety.

   It wasn't Colonel Liepa's fault, Wallander accepted that. He knew the Colonel had tried to keep him on a need-to-know basis.

   A door opened and two armed men stepped through to the other side of the doorway, letting another man through. Wallander looked up, distracted from his thoughts.

   The unarmed man walked around the back of the chair Wallander was sitting on slowly, as if waiting for the right moment to pounce.

   Out of the corner of his eye, Wallander watched him. He tried to pull his hands out of the rope binding his wrists together as the man stepped in front of him again.

   The man gestured to the two armed men beside the door.

   "Take him," he said in a Russian accent. The armed men walked over and lifted the chair Wallander was on, and walked out.

   Another man in a white coat approached them, a syringe in one hand. Wallander began to struggle, but the sight of a gun in the man's hip holster made him stop. He felt the prick of the syringe in his right bicep. The white coated man left soon after. The two armed men continued on their way with Wallander, who soon began to feel the effects of the sleeping drug he had been injected with.

***

   Wallander woke up in a dark room, unable to tell if he was in the same building as before or somewhere entirely different. He was still sitting in the same chair, with his hands tied around the back of the chair.

   "Ah, you're finally awake," said someone behind him with a faintly familiar Russian accent. The man who was in the previous stepped around and in front of him. "Hello, Mr Wallander."

   Wallander stayed quiet.

   "You may call me Petrov."

   "What's your real name?"

   "That really isn't important. However, what _is_ important is what you've been telling my not-so-good friend Colonel Karlis Liepa."

   Wallander didn't reply.

   "Talk!"

   Nothing.

   Petrov walked around Wallander again, removing the ropes from his wrists.

   "Talk."

   Still nothing.

   Wallanders refusal to speak started to frustrate Petrov, and he kicked the side of the chair. It fell, taking Wallander with it. He hit the floor hard, and rolled away from the chair, wincing. Petrov strode to where Wallander was lying. He stood on his outstretched hand, glaring down at the detective. He crunched the heel of his boot down on Wallanders fingers, hearing them break.

  "Are you going to talk now?" Petrov asked, his Russian accent thickening with his anger. Still, Wallander shook his head. With a final stamp, Petrov lifted his boot from his hand. Wallander bit his lip to stop himself whimpering from the pain that radiated from his crushed and bloodied fingers.

   "Everyone has a breaking point, Mr Wallander. It's just a matter of finding it," Petrov said, delivering a swift kick to his side. Wallander clutched his bruised ribs with his undamaged hand. Petrov kicked again, the toe of his boot connecting with fingers, and the sound of bones breaking echoed through the air.

   "Are you still refusing to utter even a single word that could save you from a world of pain?" Petrov asked, watching Wallander gently cradle his hands. Wallander just looked up at his attacker.

   "Very well, then. I believe you have studied the bodies that started this whole thing, so you must know what comes next," Petrov said, walking over to the door. He knocked three times before returning to stand above Wallander.

   After a minute, the door opened and three men entered the room. There were the two armed men from before, and the white-coated man that had injected Wallander with the sleeping drug.

   The armed men approached Wallander and hauled him up by his arms, holding him firmly.

   "Mr Wallander, this is Doctor K. You don't need to know his real name either," Petrov said as the white-coated man went beside the Russian. Doctor K revealed a glass bottle in his left hand. A tiny white label on the bottle read 'H2SO4', the chemical equation of sulphuric acid.

   Wallander froze, and then doubled his struggle to get away from the men holding him. Petrov laughed as the doctor walked up to the detective and grabbed his jaw, forcing his mouth open with one hand.

   Wallander tried to cry out, tried to beg for mercy, but he couldn't form the words. The doctor lifted the bottle to the Swede's lips, and slowly tipped it up, pouring the liquid into his mouth.

   The acid burnt his mouth, setting it on fire. Emptying the bottle, the doctor chucked it away where it smashed against the wall, and grabbed Wallander's mouth with both hands, holding his jaw shut.

   Wallander couldn't see anything except red, smell anything except acid, or feel anything except pain. He didn't feel a bullet enter his chest and pierce his heart.

   He hit the floor, blood mixing with saliva and acid.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Kudos + concrit always welcome!  
> x


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